


Holding Hands With a Ghost

by idolboi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Dark, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, High School, M/M, Paranormal, SHEITH - Freeform, Supernatural Elements, also background one sided adam/shiro, and shiro is sick, dark themes, keiths a ghost, major character death is there because keith has to die to become a ghost
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-06 17:40:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15890874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idolboi/pseuds/idolboi
Summary: Are you afraid to die? Shiro accepted death, but did he fear it? Coming face to face with death itself will instill the fear of God in someone. Losing someone you admired deeply to death will also do that. But imagine the fear of seeing someone you watched die walk right into your front door as if nothing ever happened, just as confused as you are. Shiro was positive Keith died, they had a funeral and everything. But it seems Fate has other plans for the two of them. It was like Keith was never meant to die.





	1. we're far too young to die

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is on the heavier side versus some of my usual comedic and light hearted fics. Tags will be continuously updated as I flesh out this fic and trigger warnings will be put in place before each chapter if needed. More info at the bottom.

        This was routine. Shiro went to school in the morning, survived his classes, took his medicine, took the bus home. He lived for routine. It was the only part of his life he truly had control over. Shiro always sat in the same spot on the metro bus that took him home. It was always the spot across from the junior with the striking eyes and hair so dark it  _had_  to be dyed. 

        This junior had captured his attention last year when he noticed they continuously got off at the same stop. When he was a sophomore he had transferred into their school, information Shiro had gotten from him in brief small talk during their walk, and he lived only a few blocks away from Shiro. They literally got off at the same stop and took the same path home, only to split at one corner. It was a part of Shiro’s daily routine and definitely one of his favorite parts.

        It was four in the afternoon, the first bus to take the first round of Garrison High students home. Shiro always got on this bus, always sat in the same spot, and always played the same playlist. Mostly classical music as it eased his stressed mind and body. Emphasis on stressed body. So, at four in the afternoon, Shiro was slipping in his earbuds and pressing play to begin his normal playlist. More and more students began to pile in and Shiro tucked his cane a little further away from them. It was a rough day for Shiro walking wise, so he kept it close. When someone tried to steal  _his_  spot however, he used his cane to reserve his seat.

        “Sorry, someone is already sitting there. A...  _friend_ ,” Shiro smiled.  _Friend_. It was such a nice word to describe this quiet, mild mannered man. He didn’t have any classes with him, but they did have lunch at the same period. Although, Shiro had a very different set of friends than he did. Their tables were close, but they didn’t converse. Shiro didn’t know any of his other friends. Truly, the only time the two of them spoke was on the walk home. It was too crowded and loud on the bus to carry a conversation with each other. So, Shiro made small talk on their walk.

        Shiro was actually starting to grow anxious, however. The bus was almost at capacity and he still hadn’t shown up. Shiro definitely saw him at lunch because he made a point to wave at him. He got a small, probably forced smile in return, but it was appreciated. So, he was most definitely at school. Maybe he went home early? Shiro hoped he wasn’t sick or anything. Anxiety welled in his stomach. Routine was all he knew and he hated breaking it. The bus driver was starting to close the door, ready to take off.

        “Wait!” came a voice as a hand burst through the half-closed doors. Shiro let out a heavy sigh of relief as the bus driver let him on the bus. He flashed his ID card at him and Shiro watched him walk right over to his spot as he usually did. Plopping down with a sigh, his black hair bounced in the light breeze as he sat. The guy next to him uncomfortably turned away from it as he spread his legs out a bit.

        “Hey! Keith! Thought you went home early,” Shiro said with a light laugh. He paused his playlist just as the bus driver began pulling away from the curb. He looked Keith up and down admiringly. Tight fitting charcoal grey skinny jeans that were paired nicely with well-worn red high-top Converse. Shiro held a great appreciation for V-necked tee shirts in that moment. This faded red shirt clung to him in the most perfect ways, the v dipping enough to give him a small spoiler of his well defined collarbones. Raven hair that hung to his shoulders swayed each time he moved. It was charming. His hair famed his slim face in just the right way, his pale skin looking positively radiant. Shiro sucked in his cheeks, nodding to himself. Keith was...  _very_  pleasing to the eye to say the least.

        “Hm? Oh, yeah no. Just got held up with Iverson,” Keith replied, starting to put in his own headphones. Shiro nodded, understanding entirely. Iverson was... a bit of a hardass after all.

        “No, I get that. I had him last year for Trig. He’s a total dick,” nodded Shiro.

        “Yeah, he’s... he’s something,” Keith yawned. He was... a bit out of it. Shiro gave him a look over once more and that’s when he noticed a few things. Heavy bags and circles under his eyes, slowed breathing, glazed over look. Was Keith okay? He certainly didn’t look it. Maybe he just wasn’t getting enough sleep or something. Either way, Shiro didn’t believe they were on a level of friendship where he could just ask him what was wrong. Even if his unyielding need to help everyone was nagging at him to pry. Shiro shushed himself internally and nodded, allowing Keith to just drift off. He turned his playlist back on and sighed to the sweet sounds of Moonlight Sonata. 

        The crowd on the bus began to thin out the further they went along the route. Shiro made sure to keep his legs close to himself, but not too tight his muscles locked up on him. That would truly suck. He definitely didn’t have time to get to the hospital should they become stuck like that. But with his luck, they  _would_.

        Their stop was coming up. Shiro reached behind himself and yanked on the yellow cord, signaling the bus driver to stop at the next one. Shiro grabbed his cane and rocked back and forth a few times before he was able to properly stand up. He nearly toppled over, but that seemed to always happen with him. It came with the disease he had, his clumsiness. Shiro grabbed the bar above him to stay steady until the bus came rolling to a stop. Keith was standing up with him now, shrugging his bag onto his back. 

        When the bus finally stopped, Keith motioned for Shiro to step off first. Shiro nodded to him with a warm smile and carefully made his was down. The driver did that thing where they lowered the bus and Shiro was thankful. Really, it was a tough walking day for him. Stepping down onto the sidewalk made him really feel that dull ache of his weak muscles.

        Shiro adjusted his backpack onto his one shoulder, leaning on his sturdy cane. He heard the light sounds of Keith’s sneakers hitting the pavement behind him. Shiro’s smile widened. The best part of his daily routine was beginning. Shiro peeked over his shoulder to see Keith pull out his earbuds and walk up to Shiro.

        “Shiro, is it a rough day for you? Here, I can carry your backpack. Even if it’s five minutes, it’s gotta be better, right?” Keith offered, extending out his hand. Shiro’s heart hammered against his chest with that. It was so unexpectedly sweet. He nodded and Keith helped him take off his backpack. It wasn’t the heaviest, since his senior year was surprisingly light. But any help he appreciated more than anything. His back seemed to loosen up when he removed his bag for him. Keith slung it over a shoulder, shifting the strap of his own messenger bag. How kind of him.

        “Thanks, Keith. It’s a rough day, but any day is a rough day when you’re me. Each day is a day closer to my untimely demise,” shrugged Shiro. He had many years to cope with his illness. He had to be light with it since so many people in his life liked to make it seem heavier and more intense than it was. Everyone walked on eggshells around him, afraid he was too fragile. Takashi Shirogane had a muscle disease, but he wasn’t some piece of fine china. He was strong and loved to be sarcastic.

        “Why do you walk home then? Isn’t there anyone to come pick you up or something?” Keith asked. This was something Keith had asked before, but Shiro simply passed over it. It was hard explaining to people that your guardian grandfather was too ill and depressed himself to come and get you. Shiro’s grandfather loved Shiro more than anything, but the man was too old and sick. Shiro liked to joke with him that he’d still outlive Shiro. His grandfather never found that funny. Not to mention, Shiro never liked being a burden on anyone.

        “Well, why do  _you_  walk home, Keith?” Shiro tossed back, turning to raise a brow at him. The two were walking down the same sidewalk they took together every day. Shiro was careful to take a specific slope in it as cautiously as possible. He didn’t want to fall and look like a fool in front of Keith. No, Shiro was the cool, popular student body president upper classman. He  _had_  to look cool in front of his junior. Not because he found this particular junior attractive or anything.

        Keith never answered when Shiro threw the question back at him. Shiro never pressed for further information. He was glad he and Keith had that mutual respect to not pry too far into each other’s lives. After all, they just walked home together and waved when passing each other in the hall or lunch. It’s not like they were close buddies. Shiro had his own close friends and Keith probably had his. This was a casual friendship. Did Shiro wish he could get to know him better?  _Absolutely._  But when you’re told you won’t make it to thirty? You try not to accumulate too many  _close friends_. 

        “Hey Shiro?” Keith suddenly asked after a few moments of silence. He even stopped walking, which worried Shiro. He stopped just a little bit head of Keith, leaning on his cane for support. Shiro gave him a worried glance. 

        “What’s up?”

        “Are you scared to die?”

        Well that was certainly a  _much_  heavier topic than anything they’ve ever discussed before. Usually the pair simply discussed homework or annoying teachers. School gossip. Anything small and light. Casual. So for Keith to drop this heavy bomb out of nowhere? It was a little... concerning to say the least. Combine that with how out of Keith had seemed? Shiro was no stranger to depression after all, what with having it himself and having it run in his family. Shiro switched his weight between his feet for a few moments. He was chewing on that question.

        Was he scared to die? It was no secret around the school that Shiro was sick. He had a muscle disease that was slowly killing him. He’d lose the ability to talk before he died, but it wouldn’t be much longer after that. Shiro was open about his disease so people understood he wouldn’t be around much longer. Not to mention there was that scare his sophomore year where he thought he was going to die. Surgery after surgery, not to mention that heart attack scare. Shiro had accepted his fate a long time ago. He was going to die young. 

        But was he scared to die?

        “Yes. I feel like... we’re all scared to die. Even the bravest man in the world is scared of dying. Dying is... permanent. You know? No one knows what happens after death. Death can be painful. When you die, you die alone. I think that’s the scariest part. You come into the world alone, you go out alone. That bullshit. So maybe—it's not  _death_  that scares me. ‘Cause trust me, I’ve come to terms with death a long time ago. I think it’s the loneliness that scares me. I think I’d want someone to hold my hand when I die. So it’s a little less lonely,” Shiro admitted. His words seem to have surprised Keith. Those striking eyes widened, his lips formed in a small little ‘o’ shape. 

        “I think I get what you mean. I guess... I’m afraid of dying alone too,” shrugged Keith. His tone seemed a little solemn. It tugged at Shiro’s weak heartstrings. Who actually wanted to die alone though?

        “What brought that up?” Shiro asked, raising one of his thick eyebrows at Keith curiously.

        “Just wondering. You make a lot of dying jokes. Humor is one of my coping mechanisms too,” Keith said, a faint smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.  _Cute_. Maybe that meant Keith was okay after all. Shiro couldn’t tell. Keith could be hiding his feelings deep inside. They weren’t close friends.

        “Humor is what has kept me going these last—how old am I? Nineteen? Yeah. Nineteen years,” Shiro snorted. Keith seemed a bit puzzled by that statement. Did they never exchange their ages? Well, it didn’t necessarily matter to Shiro. Age and time were meaningless to him.

        “You’re nineteen? When’s your birthday?” Keith questioned, starting to walk again. Shiro walked alongside him. Keith never went too fast. He always matched Shiro’s pace. It was the little things like that that Shiro really appreciated.

        “February 29th. I know, can you believe it? So technically I think I’m five. But really, I’m nineteen. Turning twenty next year. I was held back a bit because I used to miss a lot of school. Being sick and all that. But since I got to high school, it’s been so much more manageable. Technically I don’t think they would’ve let me be at the school at twenty one. I really had to crack down and push myself. If I wanted to live out my last years as normal as possible. They don’t want me buying alcohol for all the other seniors I guess. I’m definitely one of the oldest seniors,” replied Shiro.

        “Huh. You’re an old timer,” snickered Keith.

        “Old timer, yeah sure. What are you, sixteen?” laughed Shiro.

        “I’m eighteen, but thanks,” Keith replied, capping it with a sarcastic eyeroll.

        “ _Really_? And you have the gall to call me old?” gasped Shiro, smirking at Keith playfully.

        “See? That, that right there. No young person says words like  _gall_ ,” Keith said. He was actually smiling now. Shiro found he really enjoyed seeing Keith smile. It was warm, like sunshine.

        “Oh bite me, Keith. When’s your birthday?” Shiro asked.

        “Uh, actually it was Sunday.”

        “No kidding? Happy late birthday Keith! Man, wish you would have told me sooner. Would’ve made you like, cupcakes or something. For all the times you’ve helped me,” said Shiro.

        “Something tells me you aren’t a great baker. Or cook.”

        “You got me there. Hit the nail right on the head. Okay, so I would have bought you those mini cupcakes from the grocery store. You know, with the real thick frosting and sprinkles that never stay on? I’d probably drop the container with my fucked muscles, which means the frosting would have been on the lid. But hey! Dipping sauce for your cake!” Shiro smiled. That actually got a real, genuine laugh from Keith. It was as light as rain hitting a window during a drizzle. Shiro loved the sound of it, ringing loud in his head.

        “I would have liked that. Maybe that’s what I’ll get you for your birthday, Shiro.”

        The way Keith said his name should be illegal. It rolled off his tongue perfectly, like he was always meant to say it. It sent a chill down his spine, but it was far from a bad chill. Shiro never thought he’d be into this junior, but after all this time? He couldn’t help himself. There was something that drew him to Keith from the moment he met him last school year. Shiro could never place a finger on it, but he was glad they grew to be casual friends.

        “Yeah, if I make it to my birthday,” joked Shiro. Keith didn’t laugh at his joke. No one ever laughed at his jokes. Instead, Shiro watched as Keith trembled from the breeze that brushed over them. He could see goosebumps rising on the other’s arm. Oh! Keith didn’t have a jacket. That was no problem for Shiro.

        “Hey, are you cold? Here, hang on. Let me give you my hoodie. The cold doesn’t bother me,” Shiro said. He paused to take off his grey hoodie to hand over to Keith. It was a favorite hoodie of his, one he wore whenever he could. He’s had it for so long that the black strings to make the hoodie close were long gone. The zipper was a little janky, but still workable. And there was this little stain on the left pocket that Shiro wasn’t sure where it came from, but it was small enough he still wore it. Keith hesitated for a moment, but slipped off his bags. He took the hoodie from Shiro and pulled it over his red shirt. Keith zipped it up a bit, sighing with relief.

        “Thanks... Shiro. I’ll be sure to give it back when we separate.”

        “Nah, keep it until tomorrow. It’s totally fine. Besides, it looks nice on you. Bigger to say the least, but nice.”

        Keith smiled as he tugged the backpacks back on. Shiro didn’t see it, but Keith definitely stole a quick whiff of the hoodie. If Shiro  _did_  see that, he might have combusted on the spot. He would be right, his death was coming early.

        “I think you’re gonna make it. You’re a strong guy, Shiro. It’s... something I admire about you,” Keith admitted sheepishly. Was it Shiro’s imagination or did he see a faint twinge of red on his cheeks? God, he really hoped so. Red was such a phenomenal color on Keith.

        “I like that you keep fighting. Even when things are hard. It’s why I voted for you for the student body president. You make a great leader,” smiled Keith. Shiro gulped harshly, blinking a few times in shock as he processed everything.

        “Too bad I won’t make it to the thirty five year mark to run for the actual president. Maybe I'd get shit done,” Shiro said, tossing in a nervous laugh. Not his best work, but Shiro was absolutely disastrous when it came to situations like that. He was a man who ate up praise like nobody's business, but it certainly made him flustered.

        “You don’t handle serious conversations well. Do you?”

        “Not really. No. I’ve had enough serious conversations to last a life time. I don’t get to have fun all that often. Heavy conversations just remind me of times when I’m really sick,” Shiro said, pursing his lips out to the side.

        “That’s... totally fair honestly. Sorry, won’t question your sarcastic and dry humor again,” teased Keith. Shiro lightly bumped him with his right shoulder with an eyeroll. Keith nudged him back with a small smirk. Was this...  _flirting?_  God Shiro hoped so, but it more than likely wasn’t. He smiled down at Keith, running a hand through his own all dark hair. This was nice. His friendship with Keith was nothing like his friendships with his other friends. Theirs felt so natural and easy. They fell into a perfectly in sync rhythm and even though it was mostly small talk, it was never awkward. With his other friends? It was a lot more trying and pressure to work with their friendship. Keith was a breath of fresh air.

        He couldn’t help, but look at him. The sun was reflecting these lighter colors in Keith’s eyes that vaguely reminded Shiro of stars in the night sky. His smile always touched his eyes when he did smile and it was beautiful. The light fall breeze ruffled Keith’s dark hair, his shampoo hitting Shiro’s nose. It was apple-like, faint and nice. Keith was as radiant as a sun beam and Shiro was incredibly thankful to have a friend like him.

        Shiro was even more thankful when he felt Keith’s arm try to shove him out of the way.

        Pickup trucks were suddenly a lot more horrifying when you watch them hit your friend dead on unexpectedly.


	2. it's gone and it's never never coming back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith? Where are you? He can’t save your seat much longer. 
> 
> Keith wasn’t coming back. Shiro didn’t have to save his seat. 
> 
> Shiro has to come to terms with Keith's death, even if it's destroying him and lives around him. Broken routines, and broken friendships. Shiro can't help but think this was all his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW // This chapter does include mild violence in the beginning. It also has much darker themes throughout it. It is not a light hearted chapter.

        There was a lot of high pitched noise. He couldn’t be sure if that was the ringing in his ears or the screams of people rushing to the scene. His head ached more than anything. Something warm dribbled down his face and into his eye. Everything was red and blurry. What happened? Where was he?

        Think, Shirogane. He was walking down the sidewalk with Keith. They were having a nice conversation, just enjoying each other's company on this nice fall day. Everything was  _nice_. Why was Shiro so cold though? His body was absolutely trembling from the chill that was in the air. That’s right, he gave Keith his hoodie because  _he_  was cold.

_Keith_.

        Where in the world was Keith?

_I guess... I’m afraid of dying alone too_ _._

        Keith’s words rang so clear in his mind. That was the only thing that got through the fog. Everything nerve of Shiro’s was on fire. He was being pulled over to Keith. Shiro didn’t know why, but he just had to be there for Keith. He looked around, seeing people gathering near them. It took so much to just lift his chin up in the slightest to glance around. His eyes twitched, so tired and wanting to rest. Laying not too far from Shiro was Keith. He wasn’t moving and there was a  _lot_  of blood. 

        “K...eith,” Shiro croaked out. The sounds of sirens were approaching, people were sobbing around them. Was Keith okay? God, Shiro just kept praying that Keith was okay. He could see his hand, outstretched right in front of him. Hold his hand, Shiro. Hold his fucking hand and don’t let him die alone. Keith can’t die, right?

        Shiro was supposed to be the one to die young.

        He wasn’t sure what energy just surged through him, but he had the ability to do this weird crawl over to Keith’s body. Shiro continued to call out his name, praying he’d stir just once. His voice continued to cry out until it was an unintelligible garble of Keith’s name. Shiro dragged his aching body over to Keith until he was able to clasp his hand in his. Keith Kogane was not going to die alone. Shiro gripped his hand with all the strength he had in him.

        “Come back,  _please_ ,” he cried, squeezing Keith’s hand. Shiro would never feel Keith’s hand squeeze back. That radiant smile was gone, face down in the bloodied pavement under him. Shiro wept for his friend, squeezing his hand over and over until his own body gave out on him.

        And everything was dark.

×××

        Two weeks after the accident and Shiro was going to go back to school. By some miracle, the only injuries Shiro had received was a sizable bump on the head from when he hit the street from Keith shoving him out of the way and a cut across his nose from broken glass. Keith quite literally took all of the damage. But due to Shiro’s illness, they kept him at the hospital for a few days to monitor him. Shiro then just took time to process everything that had happened. Two weeks wasn’t nearly enough time to deal with that heavy amount of trauma, but if he wanted to graduate that year he had to go back to school soon. Apparently, the trauma was so heavy it made a patch of his hair quite literally go white. At least, that’s what Shiro thought. The doctor’s thought it triggered some sort of autoimmune disorder he couldn’t remember the name of. When his hair didn’t fall out after it, the doctors just gave in. No one could explain it, but he was as healthy as he was before the accident.

        In the first week after Keith’s death, grief counselors remained in the school. For the first time in a while, Keith was the hot topic. Everyone was either his best friend or just ‘really wish they got to know him better’. A lot of people were truly shaken up, but some used it to get some TV news time. Did any of them really know Keith? Hell, Shiro barely knew Keith, but he shoved him out of the way of a pickup truck that went through a red light just too fast.

        But as gossip comes and goes, Keith’s name was out of everyone’s mouths after the first week. That was only because James and Ina broke up. A high school fling breaking up after a month of dating was enough to have everyone forget about Keith. The only thing keeping his memory alive was the posters in remembrance that some of Keith’s “friends” hung up the day after he died.

        The moment Shiro stepped back in the school however, Keith was the hot topic once more. He was Shiro’s hero, his savior. Everyone was best friends with the school hero, Keith Kogane. Shiro could feel all the eyes on him as he hobbled his way to his homeroom class. He was used to being in the spotlight, what with being disabled and also the president. Eyes on him were either judging or admiring and usually Shiro could tell the difference. Today? Today all the eyes on Shiro were absolutely impossible to read. They bore into his skin, trying to read him. As if Shiro’s body could tell them the real story.

        He was positive the story had been exaggerated as rumors tend to progress. Shiro pushed Keith in front of the truck. Keith tried to take Shiro with him. Keith’s brains were splattered onto the concrete. He heard the whispers as he walked through the hall. None of these rumors were true, of course. But Shiro would be hearing them over and over again until the new hot gossip spread around. Just completely overshadowing the fact Shiro almost died and Keith  _did_  die. In high school, stories died down fast. 

        “Yo! Shiro’s back!” called out a familiar voice.

        “Shiro! Buddy! You’re okay!” said another. Shiro’s eyes scanned the crowd, looking for those comforting voices. A messy mop of brown hair, freckles, and slightly oversized circular glasses came pushing through the crowd that surrounded him. Arms were wrapped around his neck tightly and Shiro indulged himself just a little. He pressed his nose into the skin of his neck, eyes shutting in the slightest.

        “God, Matt, it’s so good to see you man,” Shiro sighed with relief, pulling back to smile down at one of his best friends. Matt let him go and adjusted his glasses, all warm smiles for Shiro. Matt ruffled his newly colored hair with a low whistle.

        “Dude your nose is gonna totally scar. That’s kick ass. Also, loving the hair color. Dunno how you got black hair to go like, bleach white in like, two weeks. Less than since you were at the hospital too. Bet your hair is fried. But hey, whatever helps you cope man. It’s healthier than like, I dunno, drugs or something,” Matt shrugged. Shiro gently touched the bandage going over his nose. He never really thought about the possibility of it scarring. Huh. It was nearly healed at this point, just pretty ugly to look at.

        “Drugs? As if Mr. Perfect Student Body has ever even taken more than the recommend dosage of ibuprofen before,” snorted another man who was approaching them. More brown hair, glasses, but tanner, much smoother skin. He was certainly taller than Matt as well, nearing Shiro’s height. That familiar, comforting orange flannel tied around his waist. Adam.

        “Man Adam, you know me too well,” laughed Shiro lightly. Adam tossed him a wink before he paused to address the crowd surrounding them.

        “Alright, get to homeroom you vile creatures. Leave Shiro alone. Don’t ask him questions. Get the hell out of our faces,” Adam said, shooing the crowd away from them. Students groaned as they trudged along to class. Adam stood there, waiting for most of them to clear out with his hands on his hips, glaring out at them.

        “Adam, be nice. Lots of them are freshies,” Matt warned, slinging his arm over Shiro’s shoulder casually.

        “Yeah, and freshies are gonna learn. Nah, I just don’t want them to annoy Shiro. It’s his first day back. He doesn’t need to be bombarded with assholes who just want juicy gossip,” shrugged Adam, shooing Matt off of him.

        “That’s so valid. Alright, I’m gonna head to homeroom. You got him, Adam?” Matt said, walking a little away from them.

        “Absolutely. I always have him,” Adam said. With that, Matt saluted them and joined the crowd of people to make his way to homeroom. Adam shook his head at him with a soft smile before turning to face Shiro, much more serious now.

        “Adam, I’m not made of glass. I’m disabled, not the vase from Ouran. If I smash, you won’t owe anyone like, eight million yen,” Shiro said with an eye roll. Adam cocked his hip out to the side, fist on it, and an eyebrow raised curiously.

        “Did you rewatch Ouran while you were at home?”

        “It’s a comfort show and Netflix just put it back on. Leave me alone.”

        Adam rolled his eyes, with a friendly smile. He moved to take Shiro’s backpack, slinging it on the shoulder opposite from his own. Shiro grumbled under his breath about referring to his comment, but Adam didn’t care. He did this every day for him, insisting that it’s what best friends do. So, Shiro gave in like he always did and the pair walked side by side to homeroom. All eyes were on them, judging and wanting to be all knowing.

        “Takashi, are you sure you’re okay to be at school?” Adam asked, leaning over to whisper in Shiro’s ear. Junior year when the two had gotten drunk in Shiro’s backyard, Shiro gave Adam permission to address him by his first name. Insisting that it’s what best friends do. But sometimes? Sometimes hearing Takashi from him made his skin crawl and he could never put a finger on why.

        “Yeah, I’m fine. Shaky, sore, fine. I can’t afford to miss anymore school. These two weeks off literally fucked me over. I don’t have a lot of sick days now because of it. I don’t want to talk about it,” snapped Shiro. He didn’t need his cane with him today, otherwise he would have slammed it down to make a point. No, today was a manageable pain day for him, which allowed him to walk without assistance. Even if Adam tried to force it on him.

        “Alright, I won’t push it further. Just—you know I’m here for you. I want to help you,” Adam replied, much softer. Shiro immediately felt like a huge asshole for snapping at him. But he was so damn tired of being treated like a baby. Shiro was a capable adult and he didn’t want to be treated like glass. Even if he felt as fragile as a cracked vase currently.

×××

        Today was probably the fourth worst day of his life. Third was the accident, for sure. Second had to be finding out that he was going to die young and be very sick his whole life when he was only seven. And topping the chart off at number one was his parents giving him away after they found out he was sick. They abandoned him with his grandfather and flew all the way across the country. Not everyone wanted to deal with a sick kid, and who is to say they even wanted him in the first place?

        So, this day took the number four spot quickly, pushing down the day he fell in the hallway in front of his fifth grade crush to the number five spot. Shiro had to see the school counselors, speak with grief counselors and deal with a shit ton of work. Teachers treated him gently, afraid he might have a breakdown. Which, they weren’t far off from the truth, but Shiro didn’t want them to act like that around him.

        Not to mention, Shiro kept getting called  _brave_  and  _so strong_  for coming in to school. People approached him with wild tales about how much they loved Keith and that they’d miss him so much. Someone did call him a murderer though, probably because they believed the rumor that Shiro pushed him. Some creepy kid did ask about Keith’s body. Adam nearly throttled him for that and Shiro just remained silent the rest of that class.

        These people weren’t Keith’s friends. Hell, Shiro could barely call himself Keith’s friend. They were at most acquaintances. These people were just looking for their fifteen minutes of fame and for sympathy points. Shiro wasn’t having any of it. He hated how fake these people were acting when he knew that half of these people were probably bullying the fuck out of Keith. Or anyone like him.

        But the weirdest part? The weirdest part of the day was when the art teacher gave Shiro Keith’s sketchbooks. Keith was apparently in the advanced art class, and Shiro didn’t have a single clue. He had yet to flip through the sketchbooks, not wanting to invade Keith’s privacy. Did that matter when the person was dead though? The teacher simply insisted that Shiro would want the sketchbooks and that otherwise she would have to toss them. No one came for Keith’s stuff, she said. Why did that strike such a heavy cord with Shiro? So, Shiro stuffed the three books into his backpack, deciding to keep them somewhere safe at home. For Keith’s memory. He had a drawer in his room he already had something of Keith’s that he couldn’t bring himself to toss. So, the sketchbooks could join it. For Keith.

        Lunch took too long to come. This day was absolute garbage and Shiro just wanted to go home and sleep. His body was starting to ache, muscles getting a lot tighter now. He could still walk, but it took just a little bit longer for him to get moving. Even still, he grumbled when Adam offered him to use his arm to get to and from. Overprotective best friends were sometimes a blessing, even if you don’t want to admit they are.

        Lunch was a safe space. Shiro’s table was in the center of the cafeteria and the same few people sat at his table. Adam on his left, Matt on his right. James and Kinkade sat next to each other next to Matt and next to Adam used to be Ina, but it looks like Nadia took her place. As if Rizavi could ever be James’s new girl. She was much too powerful for him and he definitely feared her for that. But that’s why Shiro liked her. She was kick ass. It was a nice, normal group.

        Adam had gotten his food tray simply because Shiro mentioned he was getting a little too tired. He quite literally wasn’t allowed to stand up and get his food for himself. Matt, who brought his own lunch, told him to just let it go. This was just how Adam was, even if it was overbearing. Shiro still kind of appreciated it, though.

        “So Shiro, what made you decide to dye your hair?” James asked, sitting down with his tray of food and immediately tearing into the roll. Adam placed Shiro’s tray in front of him before sitting down next to him with a smile. Shiro silently thanked him before turning to James.

        “Uh, dunno. Trauma?” Shiro said casually. Man, no one ever laughed at his jokes. All he got were wide eyed, worried stares. After a moment though, Matt laughed. It was a pity laugh, but it wasn’t awkward silence.

        “Maybe let's not talk about that stuff,” Adam suggested, holding up his hands in a shrug.

        “Maybe let's not speak for me,” Shiro said, sipping from his milk carton. Adam flashed him a look, but ultimately backed down. Shiro, once again, felt bad. But he had a feeling Adam was going to be more protective of him than ever before. Shiro simply sighed and poked around at his food. Suddenly he didn’t feel like eating.

        Shiro sat back in his seat with a heavy sigh, just glancing around his table. Everyone was in their own conversations now. James and Kinkade were talking about football and soccer. The soccer team was struggling without their goalie—wait. Keith was on the soccer team? One would think that as the student body president and an acquaintance of Keith’s... he’d know that. Kinkade said he tried being in goal, but it wasn’t his thing. James told him he could convince coach to get him onto the school’s winning and prized football team. Kinkade said he couldn’t abandon the team, not when they just lost Keith.

        Losing Keith—did actually affect the school. He remembered how upset the art teacher was just bringing him up, handing over those sketchbooks. Kinkade actually seemed upset about losing a team member and possibly... a  _friend_. Throughout the day, there were actually people who were genuinely upset over Keith’s death. Real friends of his, he assumed. Keith touched these people's lives and now he was gone. Just like that.

        Shiro glanced over to the right. To the table he always waved at because Keith sat there. Instinctively, his hand went up to wave, but his heart dropped so hard when he saw the empty space. Keith’s table was usually bustling, his table mates and presumably friends, always chatting and laughing. But today? Today they all just sat there in silence, poking at their foods much like Shiro was doing. The space Keith usually sat in stayed empty, but... another spot was also empty.

        “You! You fucking asshole!” screamed an unfamiliar voice. And just like all eyes were on the source of the sound. Standing in front of Shiro’s table stood—well, a familiar face. A face much like the one on his right. Much messier, warmer brown hair, but those eyes were the exact same. She was much shorter than Matt, but still had that lanky frame. 

        Her finger was pointed directly at Shiro, there was no mistaking that. There was such a furious fire in her eyes, nothing like her brother’s gentle eyes. Dark, heavy circles were so vibrant against her pale skin. Literally, it looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks. Her body seemed to be trembling, whether from the rage or some sort of anxiety, Shiro couldn’t tell. But she was singling him out and it captured his attention immediately.

        “Pidge what the fuck are you doing?” Matt asked, standing up and slamming his hands down on the lunch table. Everything was still and silent. One could hear a pin hit the ground. Shiro’s eyes flitted up to Matt for a moment before landing on his sister once more. Adam’s arm immediately started slinking in front of Shiro, practically mom arming him.

        “Fuck off Matt. I’m here for Shiro. He fucking killed Keith,” the little one snarled. There it was. Her motive. Shiro’s throat tightened and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

        “You should have died! Not him! You only have years left while Keith had his  _whole life_  in front of him! You should have fucking died!” Pidge cried out. Tears rolled down her cheeks, her words slowly starting to come out choked and gargled. That one really stung, because it was something Shiro had been telling himself since he realized Keith was dead. Keith died young, when it was supposed to be Shiro. Keith was supposed to grow old and Shiro was supposed to die before his life even began. That’s how it was supposed to be, but that’s not how it came out.

        “You. Killed. My. Best. Friend. So, frankly, Shiro, eat shit and die,” Pidge sobbed. She flipped Shiro off and Shiro felt like he deserved everything she spat at him. But it was with this that two of her friends grabbed her by her arms. A much larger man, dressed in very earthy tones and a skinnier man Shiro recognized. Lance. He was on the fundraising committee and won homecoming prince. The two of them dragged Pidge out of the cafeteria, Pidge screaming more obscenities at Shiro as she left.

        When the cafeteria door slammed shut behind them, no one dared to move. Instead, all of the attention was left on Shiro. Adam grasped his hand in his, eyeing him worriedly. Shiro’s bottom lip quivered as if he had something to say, but he couldn’t seem to find any words.

        “Shiro--I’m so sorry. Fuck, I didn’t think—I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry. I gotta—I gotta go talk to her,” Matt rushed out, finally breaking the silence no one could break. With that, Matt left all of his things at the table and made a mad dash after his little sister and her friends. Shiro didn’t even realize Keith and Matt’s little sister were that close. This—This was really hitting her hard, and Shiro was well.

        “Takashi?” Adam whispered, his thumb rubbing the top of Shiro’s hand. Shiro turned his head to look at Adam, tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. 

        “I... I killed him, Adam,” was all he could choke out.

×××

        This was routine. Shiro went to school in the morning, survived his classes, took his medicine, took the bus home. He lived for routine. It was the only part of his life he truly had control over. Shiro always sat in the same spot on the metro bus that took him home. It was always the spot across from the junior with the striking eyes and hair so dark it  _had_  to be dyed. 

        And with a day like today? Shiro needed routine.

        Shiro let out a hefty sigh as he took his normal seat on the bus. People scooted further and further away from him, probably now believing the terrible rumors. Shiro just had to ignore them and listen to his music to calm him down. It was four in the afternoon, the first bus to take the first round of Garrison High students home. Shiro always got on this bus, always sat in the same spot, and always played the same playlist. Mostly classical music as it eased his stressed mind and body. Emphasis on stressed body. So, at four in the afternoon, Shiro was slipping in his earbuds and pressing play to begin his normal playlist. More and more students began to pile in and Shiro tucked his legs in a little further away from them. When someone tried to steal  _his_  spot however, he used his foot to reserve his seat.

        Shiro was actually starting to grow anxious, however. The bus was almost at capacity and he still hadn’t shown up. It was well after four and the bus was getting to the point where he couldn’t save  _his_  seat anymore. Panic swelled inside him, heart racing. Where was Keith? Keith  _had_  to be coming! It was a part of Shiro’s daily routine and he couldn’t have his routine ruined anymore. Listen to the piano playing sweetly and calm your breathing. No need for a panic attack on the public bus.

        Keith? Where are you? He can’t save your seat much longer.

        Keith wasn’t coming back. Shiro didn’t have to save his seat.

        The bus driver shut the door and there was no little ‘ _wait!’_  being shouted to alert the driver to halt for him. Instead, the bus pulled away from the curb and people adjusted. Shiro stared wide eyed at Keith’s seat, or what used to be Keith’s seat. This overwhelming dark cloud started to take over Shiro. The sun wasn’t shining and the world sounded like he was a million miles away. His eyes could only focus on the empty seat, picturing the man with the pretty eyes who used to sit there. The man with the hair that clung to his face if he was just a little too sweaty who used to sit across from him and flash him a smile that would stop Shiro’s heart. It wouldn’t be there anymore. It’s gone and it’s never coming back.

        How was any of this fair? Keith didn’t deserve to die. He was such a kind, selfless person. There was so much he could have given to the world. Keith could have been a huge soccer star! He could have gone on to cure Shiro’s muscle disease. Probably long after Shiro would have been dead, but still. No one was going to be able to see the pretty gold flecks in Keith’s eyes sparkle in the fall sun ever again. Keith deserved to still be alive, not six feet under the ground. This was going to eat at Shiro for the rest of his miserable, short life. A life that should have been Keith’s.

        As Shiro got off the bus, he felt his heart sink right to his feet. His feet felt like they were attached to concrete blocks. Every inch he managed to walk, felt like he wasted all of his energy. There was no one coming off the bus behind him, offering to take his backpack in that kind voice of his. No, Shiro was completely alone now. He was going to be completely alone now. 

        It took a  _while_ , but Shiro managed to make it to the street just before the boys would usually part ways. Shiro stopped at the corner of the sidewalk, just staring at the street before him. It appeared that any evidence of the tragedy was cleaned away. Cars drove over the street as if nothing happened only two weeks ago. As if two weeks ago, one of the most amazing people Shiro had ever met didn’t get killed by a stupid driver.

        His knees felt so weak now. He couldn’t peel his eyes away from the only spot on the street he could vividly remember. The spot where Keith’s body lay. He remembered reaching out to hold his hand, so Keith wouldn’t have to die alone. He didn’t want Keith to leave, feeling so lonely. His body was there, still warm. Keith was wearing his jacket, a jacket now bloodied and sitting in its own special drawer back home. Shiro couldn’t bring himself to try and get the stains out. They had returned it to him after the accident because where Keith lived? They didn’t want it. It was Shiro’s property anyway. He had stitched his name into the tag.

        That’s where he watched his friend die, right after saving his pathetic life. No, Shiro couldn’t support himself now. He dropped to his knees, full on sobbing now. Shiro, while a very pretty man himself, was one of the ugliest criers. Snot, and a garbled gaspy breath included. Shiro just kept thinking about how it should have been him to die, not Keith. How the fuck was any of this fair?!

        He reached for his phone in his pocket, his hands trembling. The worst his phone sustained from the accident was a giant crack in the screen. That’s nothing compared to the fact Keith Kogane was fucking  _dead_. That should be  _Shiro_. Not Keith. 

        His fingers clicked around the best he could until he was finally dialing the number he wanted. Someone had actually started to pass Shiro, pausing to see if they could assist him. Shiro waved them off and they were quickly gone. Shiro must have looked like he was completely insane.

        “Hello? Takashi?” asked the voice, quicker than he expected.

        “H-Hey, Adam. Could you come pick me up? I-I can’t walk right now,” Shiro gasped out, a little hiccup trailing it.

        “Absolutely. Shiro, are you okay? Where are you?”

        “You know where Keith got hit?”

        “...I’ll be there in two. Don’t move.”

×××

        Adam really was such a great friend. He just let Shiro silently have a break down in front of his own house. Seeing the site where Keith died was honestly too much for him still. His whole body was tight and Shiro was in an immense amount of pain. He would have to take a muscle relaxer when he got in, but at least that would knock him out entirely. Can’t be in pain when you’re pretty much comatose.

        “Shiro, I don’t want you taking the bus anymore. I can drive you. You’re a little out of the way, but I don’t want this happening to you again,” Adam said. He was still gripping his steering wheel, just staring out the windshield. Shiro was thankful he avoided looking at him while he cried. It was embarrassing for him to be so vulnerable in front of literally anyone.

        “Adam, you don’t have to do that. I’m an adult. I can make it home on my own,” Shiro replied, his voice hoarse. 

        “It doesn’t matter. You’re important to me, Takashi. You’re just a senior in high school. You’re under a huge amount of stress with that alone. Plus, your health and now  _this?_  Shiro, please let me do this for you. For my own peace of mind,” sighed Adam, turning to give him a look. Shiro looked down at his lap, feeling defeated.

        “Just--Just until I can get better. I  _will_  get better. Keith wouldn’t want me moping about him for too long,” Shiro said with the weakest smile he could muster. Fuck, this hurt so much. So much more than he ever thought possible.

        “Thank you. Do you want me to bring your bag in for you? Or can you do it? Thank god it’s Friday. You—enjoy your weekend. I can come over this weekend if you want,” Adam asked as gently as he could.

        “I can do it. I’m tight, but not too bad. I can’t let it get bad though. I’ll--text you. After I take a nap and take some medicine. Okay? Uh, I’ll get back to you on coming over this weekend. Thank you, Adam. For doing this for me,” Shiro replied. Adam placed his hand on top of Shiro’s and gave it a light squeeze. Shiro smiled at his best friend, his heart feeling hollow.

        “Take it easy Shiro. You’re not alone, okay?”

        Then why did he feel like he was completely, entirely all alone for the first time in his life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was heavy. Chapter three will be lighter to say the least.
> 
> Thanks again to my brilliant beta, Chey. She's such a staple in my sheith fics.  
> [If you have an insta, please follow Chey!](http://instagram.com/gotmynameinlights)
> 
> Chapter title from this song: ['Til My Heart Stops - Too Far Moon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RPG2ZKJTlKY)
> 
> Contact me here!  
> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/commandershiro)  
> [Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/idol.dee.378)  
> [Instagram](http://instagram.com/idolboii)

**Author's Note:**

> Matt back at it again with some sheith shit. I've been sitting on this plot for ages and now I'm finally properly fleshing it out. This fic will deal with heavier topics, but will also have its lighter moments! It's sad, but soft. if you get what I mean? For Shiro's disease, I'm basing it HEAVILY on Becker Muscular Dystrophy which I am continuously researching as I write it. I'm also tying in canon elements of his muscles disease! Essentially, Shiro is very sick and will die very young. It sucks.
> 
> Thanks again to my brilliant beta, Chey. She's such a staple in my sheith fics.  
> [If you have an insta, please follow Chey!](http://instagram.com/gotmynameinlights)
> 
> Chapter title from this song: [Far Too Young To Die - Panic! at the Disco](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FAiAOO37y1E)
> 
> Contact me here!  
> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/commandershiro)  
> [Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/idol.dee.378)  
> [Instagram](http://instagram.com/idolboii)


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